Colour.

#VerbalEmancipation2014.

by Tawanda W.T Mulalu

(with excerpts from 'Blue is The Warmest Colour’ by Julie Maroh.)

Intro.

“And little by little, I understood that there were many types of love. We do not choose the one we fall in love with, and our perception of happiness is our own and is determined by what we experiences. Does that answer your question?”

I.

(beat)

No-

Let me tell you right now that red is my favourite colour

But I got it on with blue, some would say that that’s a blunder

I wonder is… infidelity the vibe of this poem?

Some secret guilt in my mind, that I’ve decided to be owning

Up to, I’ve got to, spill it out of my heart

I’ve had no idea what to say, but I’ve commited to start

A statement that’s an indictment to romantic commitment-

Let’s face it: when it comes to love, haven’t all of us been sinning?

At some point, nobody can claim to never ever have smirked

At their own version of the colour red in hoping that it might work

Even though your girl’s colour is blue and you know that this much is true…

You kinda now desire sunsets instead of plain skies; and thus seek a more maroon hue

(beat-beat)

Skies change with the sun, time influences that

But listen, honestly, what I feel, it’s deeper than that

(beat-beat)

Blue and red seem only to be opposite colours of the visible spectrum

But actually flow into one another, from point A to B, like a pendulum

(beat-beat)

So my real problem is denial: I’m not really interested in swinging back

Because whenever I see red again…I can’t help thinking that blue is just a fade to black.

And black scares me because it represents…

And black scares me because it represents…

And black scares me because it represents…

And black scares me because it represents…

II.

(beat)

Hol’ up.

Literature taught me that cheating is immoral but understandable

From the point of Gatsby and Daisy it’s not even that reprehensible

The thing is, I still see the American Dream in another colour

No red, white and blue and great starry flag of wonder

But being honest to the context I should only omit the white

And keep red and blue; so it follows that my greed is merely self-directed spite

In this way I am suggesting a hint of hatred towards myself

As I’m unable to colour-block my view of my colourless self

I mean that I’m disappointed in being able to reduce

Myself to old, novel characters…as a result I have deduced

That blue and red don’t matter when my true colours are grey

I’m ashamed in having even having tried (and failed) to pick (just one). 

But all the same…

(beat-beat)

Skies change with the sun, time influences that

But listen, honestly, what I feel, it’s deeper than that

(beat-beat)

Blue and red seem only to be opposite colours of the visible spectrum

But actually flow into one another, from point A to B, like a pendulum

(beat-beat)

So my real problem is denial: I’m not really interested in swinging back

Because whenever I see red again…I can’t help thinking that blue is just a fade to black.

And black scares me because it represents…

And black scares me because it represents…

And black scares me because it represents…

And black scares me because it represents…

III.

(beat)

Forget it-

I’m still wishing… her sunset becomes my sunrise, and envelops the sky

But regretting… her blue fades away, painfully, I’m left to die

As the sun will too soon turn to night, driving me to gentle panic

I know this now: colourless people always beg for a rainbow because they can never have it.

...Damnit.

I apologize to blue for making her feel even bluer.

I apologize to red for using her to make me feel better.

I’m sorry to myself for making myself so bitter.

So suddenly has my soul, become colder than this winter...

Thus the part of the poem where I conclude with the theme

Of the echoes within me which of course are only dead dreams

I had looked to you, red and/or blue, in hoping you could redeem

Me to your world of colour. But present reality is different, which can only mean

That...

(beat-beat)

Skies changed with the sun, time influenced that

But listen, honestly, what I felt, was deeper than that

(beat-beat)

Blue and red seemed only to be opposite colours of the visible spectrum

But actually flowed into one another, from point A to B, like a pendulum

(beat-beat)

So my real problem was denial, I wasn’t really interested in swinging back

Because whenever I saw red again… I couldn’t help thinking that blue was just a fade to black.

And black scared me because it represented…

And black scared me because it represented…

And black scared me because it represented…

And black scared me because it represented…

Outro.

“…you asked me if I believed in eternal love. Love is something way too abstract and indefinable. It depends on what we perceived and what we experience. If we don’t exist, it doesn't exist. And we change so much; love must change as well.

Love catches fire, it trespasses it breaks, we break, it comes back to life…we come back to life. Love may not be eternal, but it can make us eternal…

Beyond death, the love that we shared continues to live.”

Fin.

P.S You are free to check out the reader-friendly version here, along with some of my other poems.